This is endless (so are we)
by That Endless Mania
Summary: In which Levi seeks closure of his soldiers' deaths. "Sometimes falling apart means walking into your office at 6.45am to find your four dead soldiers sitting on their respective seats, jolting up to greet you upon hearing your footsteps. Being all fine and dandy, like they did not just die a week ago. Like you did not send them straight to their deaths." SLIGHT Levitra.


**AN: I stopped writing FF a good two years ago, but one day I decided to pick up SnK and... well, here we are. This was heavily inspired by the godawfulheartstabbingsoulrippinggarrrhhh scene where he flew over all his dead men; I felt so distressed by it that I felt heavily compelled to give them a proper ending, and this is the result. Writing it was not fun at all because the scene kept replaying in my mind, but I'm still glad I managed to come up with my own version of a closure. Anyhow, enjoy : **

**Warning: copious amounts of sad ahead + possible Levi x Petra if you have myopia and/ or squint hard**

**Ps: I will applaud you vigorously if you manage to get the references to all the quotes (without googling! ^^v)**

* * *

**I**

"_At the temple there is a poem called "Loss" carved into the stone. It has three words, but the poet has scratched them out.  
__You cannot read loss, only feel it."_

You are a lone wolf.

You know this – from the very beginning of your thug days, when you roamed those empty alleyways deep into the night, accompanied by nothing more than the dim illumination from the moon, and the occasional drunkard (whose belongings would miraculously disappear the next day) sprawled by the walls. Even now, after years spent in the military with the soldiers and after leading countless of men into countless of battles, you still prefer to fight alone.

Contrary to common belief, though, you are not entirely apathetic. There is a profound difference between an inability to feel and an inability (or unwillingness) to communicate your feelings to others, and you're all too aware of that. So when your soldiers die and people whisper behind your back about how 'the Captain's a real fighter, top notch, but sometimes he should just be a little more feeling', you don't bother correcting them. Over the years you start to forget the names of men you have sent (mostly knowingly) to their deaths, but the lingering guilt never really disappears – it manifests, always, as a dull ache between your ribs, a constant weight at the back of your mind.

Despite this, however, you never once let them come in the way of your work; any good soldier knows that when you spend too much time thinking of the dead you will eventually die along with them.

This time, though, as you look down at the blood splattered ground, littered with the remnants of your most trusted soldiers, you feel a profound sense of loss that you have never theretofore experienced. This time, as you send Petra's lifeless corpse rolling down the grassland, you realise that you will never be the same again.

* * *

**II**

"_It's coming again,_  
_the chill and frozen morning,_  
_will you be there too?"_

You begin to fall apart.

Not in _that_ way – you don't start talking to yourself, or go around banging your head on walls, or anything like that. If anything, you appear to have picked yourself up at a startling – alarming, even – rate, delving straight back into work despite your leg injury, training your soldiers mercilessly and engaging actively in the plan to retake Wall Rose. To the outsider it would seem as though you did not just lose your closest men, and that is an image you are determined to uphold. You make sure that your quality of work does not even slip one bit, and you succeed. Irwin tries to bring up the topic once or twice during your daily meetings, but you brush his well-meaning concerns aside. You tell him, with your steadiest voice, that _you are not weak_.

No, sometimes you fall apart in different ways. Sometimes falling apart means walking into your office at 6.45am (as you do, every morning) to find your dead soldiers sitting on their respective seats, all four of them, jolting up to greet you upon hearing your footsteps (as they do, every morning). Being all fine and dandy, like they did not just die a week ago. Like you did not send them straight to their deaths.

* * *

**III**

"_I think hell is something you carry along with you. Not somewhere you go."_

You stare, immobilised, at the sight of the four… entities for a full three seconds. (You are used to snapping at soldiers for having reaction times greater than less than a fraction of a second. 'Listen, you imbeciles, people's heads have been unwittingly chomped off by Titians in timeframes shorter than that!')

Oluo is the first to react. 'Hey Captain, you look like you've just seen a ghost!' and he starts laughing heartily at his terrible joke.

'It's not funny,' Petra chides in her usual gentle demeanor, and turns her head back to you. The tenderness in her voice is palpable. 'I hope you have been well, Captain.'

'How… why… why are all of you here?' you manage to ask, half expecting to wake from a dream.

'We've no idea either, Captain!' comes Gunther's cheerful reply.

'The four of us somehow just spontaneously appeared here, in the office, Captain. You're the only one who gets to see us, though. The others who passed by earlier couldn't tell that we were here at all,' Erd helpfully offers.

'So all of you are ghosts?'

'I would think so, Captain,' says Gunther as he leaps effortlessly into the air, floating around like a huge balloon.

'We could stay, couldn't we, Captain?' Petra asks. 'We can't really do much work now, since we can barely lift a pen, but we'll promise not to cause you any disturbance at all.'

Four (semi-transparent) heads peer at you earnestly.

You open your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by familiar footsteps at your door. Hanji leaps into your office dramatically, as always, and despite the sheer absurdity of the situation you still find it in you to cringe inwardly at how her muddy boots are causing unsightly stains on the floor. 'Levi, Commander Irwin told us to meet him later regarding a change in battle strategy and I thought I should drop by and update you accordingly!'

'Hanji,' you reply tersely, 'get out of my room.'

Hanji follows your acidic gaze to the muddy footprints on the floor and laughs before springing back to the door. 'Really, Levi, you're incorrigible,' she laughs, but her comical face suddenly straightens and is replaced by genuine concern. 'But you're alright, aren't you? I thought I heard your voice when I came here… are you talking to yourself? Do you feel unwell?'

You glance hastily at the four figures next to you and then back to Hanji. 'I _told_ all of you, I am fine.'

'You can talk to us about whatever's troubling you, you know,' Hanji laughs again. 'Then again, you never need anybody, do you. See you at the Commander's office!'

With that she disappears to the corridors. You take a deep breath and turn your head to the direction of the ghosts.

They are still there.

'So, Captain,' Oluo pips up brightly, 'may we please stay?'

You exhale sharply. 'Fine, you all can stay.' Petra opens her mouth to speak again, possibly in response to the sudden tiredness in your voice, but you cut her short. 'I've a meeting to go to now.'

You walk out of the room before they can reply. Soldiers salute to you as you walk by, fear and respect blatant on their faces. Despite the bad leg you stride on stoic-faced and steadily, with your usual confidence and grace; it will not do for others to learn that mankind's best fighter has, in fact, started seeing ghosts.

The only telltale sign is the small lump at the back of your throat.

* * *

**IV**

"_In your absence, you are everywhere."_

The next few days settle into a pleasant lull. Your soldiers keep to their promise – they are good soldiers, _your_ best soldiers – and remain entirely undisruptive. Oluo floats through the Survey Corps Headquarters, going around pranking people using silly antics like blowing wind into their faces. Eld and Gunther often position themselves at your door, alerting you to visitors, a service you eventually come to appreciate greatly; you now have the luxury of running away via the windows whenever Hanji has yet another enthusiastic experimental technique to show you ('oh Levi but you _must_ see this, I found a way to excite their eyeballs'). For the most part Petra plants herself at the window, staring out at the training grounds, calmly observing the new trainees, like the oasis of peace she has always been. Sometimes one or two of them slip away and vanish for half a day, but they never disappear as a group.

You don't alert anyone else about their presence. Quite frankly, you often entertain the notion that you have gone barking mad, to the extent that you have started to hallucinate. Once or twice you contemplate visiting the infirmary, but the thought of the information leaking out to the other soldiers is all too horrific. At night, you toss and turn in bed, wondering if your guilty conscience has finally caught up with you. The notion seemed absurd, though, for the four are altogether an amiable bunch, hardly representative of vengeful soldiers back to haunt you for sending them to their bloody deaths.

One day, courtesy of a little sake during dinner and the quiet mellowness of a summery night, you finally broach the subject with Eld (the rest of them have once again vanished to god knew where). 'Sometimes I do wonder if all this is real.'

Eld looks at you. 'You mean…'

You wave your hands in front of you. 'Of course I'm referring to you. All four of you. Ghosts back to visit their captain… why would any sane man consider it real?'

Eld tips his head apologetically. 'Do you find our presence repellent, Captain?'

'I just hate the goddamn fact that your presence might be indicative of me turning into a nutcase.'

Eld replies you with a faint smile on his lips. 'Of course we are real, Captain. We heard your call, and we returned to you. We are every bit as real as you believe us to be.'

And that was that.

You never broach the subject with any of them again; you know that there is no need to.

* * *

**V**

"_I guess that's what saying good-bye is always like- like jumping off an edge.  
__The worst part is making the choice to do it.  
__Once you're in the air, there's nothing you can do but let go."_

Five months after your soldiers appear, the farewells start again.

It is a quiet night when Gunther announces his departure to you. The rest of the team is away, and you are at your desk, checking reports after reports, when Gunther suddenly speaks. 'Captain… I think I have to go soon.'

You look up sharply.

'I'm sorry, Captain. I know I wasn't of much help during these few months but…' Gunther looks down to the ground and shifts his feet. 'It has been an honour working for you. Thank you for… for trusting me enough to have picked me for that mission.'

You stare at Gunther, who lifts his gaze up and looks right into your eye. 'Goodbye, Captain.'

He turns away and starts walking out of the door, but suddenly you find words leaving your lips – 'Thank _you_, Gunther.'

Gunther does not look back. You never see him again.

* * *

**VI**

"_Goodbyes, they often come in waves."_

Eld is the next to go. Eld was a man of few words, however, and so in true Eld style you do not even realise that he has left you till you stop seeing him for three days straight. There was no farewell – not even a meaningful glance or two.

'Eld is gone,' you remark, raising your voice above the bitter howling of a wintry night. Petra and Oluo gaze at you, unspeaking, and you recall the conversation you had with Eld months before.

'_We heard your call, and we returned to you.'_ You entertain the notion of calling Eld back – you have no doubt that he will return – but you decide against it. Your soldiers have endured an entire lifetime of loss and fear and sorrow and bloodshed, and they deserve peace at last.

Petra breaks the silence. 'We never did hear Eld speak of his personal opinion about you but… Captain, I think he really looked up to you.'

You press your lips together.

'I know.'

* * *

**VI**

"_Time was passing like a hand waving from a train I wanted to be on.  
__I hope you never have to think about anything as much as I think about you."_

The day before Oluo leaves he is, quite frankly, reminiscent of a clingy girlfriend after a bad breakup.

He wakes you up with a teary 'CAPTAIN WE SHALL HAVE TO PART SOON' through the goddamn windows, randomly dissolves into a steady stream of tears throughout the entire day, and constantly tries to embrace his beloved Captain only to pass right through you each time (this does nothing to quell his aggrieved sobs).

At night, you try (and fail) to quieten the poor man down to a noise level decent enough to work, so the two of you decide to go for a 'short walk' (your idea, with much emphasis on the short) to 'stop this disturbing din'. This works, and Oluo floats around in a slight stupor, unable to believe that he is going on a walk with his beloved Taichou.

'So,' you say, as the two of you walk down a secluded corner in one of the unused training grounds. 'You're leaving too.'

This is a terrible mistake; Oluo bursts into a fit of tears again.

'Wait!' you interrupt, horrified. 'I have something to say.'

Oluo, taken aback, stops sniffling briefly.

'I'm sorry. For… this.'

Oluo stares at you.

'We roughly calculated all your chances of survival the day before the mission and it was way less than ten percent. I sent all of you in knowing that. I'm sorry.'

'Captain…' Oluo is visibly flustered. 'Thank you, but none of us… blames you at all.'

You turn away from him. 'I just thought all of you should know.'

At the corner of your eye you see Oluo break into a watery smile. 'You could have commanded us to smash right into our deaths, Captain, and we would have followed.'

'That's dumb,' you begin, but as you turn back to where Oluo stood you only see an empty field.

* * *

**VII**

"_Who can say if I've been changed for the better?  
__But because I knew you  
__Because I knew you  
__I have been changed for good"_

Petra is the last to depart. Steady, gentle Petra, whose docile exterior belied a tremendous courage.

'Captain,' Petra approaches you one day, right before a huge expedition. She produces a wad of paper and places it on your desk. 'This is from the four of us. I managed to finish compiling it today, just in time for your trip later.'

You pick up the papers and your eyes widen. 'This…'

'We were tired of being useless, Captain, so we took turns leaving the Headquarters and exploring this area,' Petra smiles benignly at you. 'We couldn't go far from here, though, for some unknown reason; it's like something would pull us back whenever we ventured too far. But we explored enough to come up with a detailed report of the immediate surroundings within a three mile vicinity. This isn't much but… we hope that this will be of use to you.'

'This… will be very useful. Thank you.'

Petra breaks into a smile – that familiar, gentle grin. 'No, thank you, Captain. Thank you for giving us purpose all this while.'

Before this… before joining the Recon Corps I didn't really know what to do with my life. But after so many years here I think I finally understand the concept of things like… duty, and hope. We all owe this to you, Captain.' Pause. 'At least I do.'

You cannot bring yourself to look at her. 'Your father… he spoke to me about you. And your letters.'

Petra laughs, a laughter laced with the mild embarrassment of a young girl, and a subtler, lingering sadness. 'Did he? I guess I'm thankful that he relayed my message on my stead, then.'

A soldier runs into your room. 'All units are prepared and ready to go, sir! We will leave as soon as you are ready!'

'Tell them I will be ready shortly,' you tell the soldier, who gives a respectful nod and walks out. You turn back to Petra.

'Petra… are you also going to…' you don't complete the sentence. Petra smiles, and you try to etch that sight into your memory. You know that you will never see it again.

'Captain, we will always be with you.'

* * *

**VIII**

"_If I never see you again  
__I will carry you  
__Inside  
__Outside  
__On my fingertips  
__And at brain edges  
__And in centers  
__Centers of what I am  
__Of what remains."_

The mission is a resounding success. Casualties were minimal, and your men managed to gather enough information to warrant yourselves a distinct advantage against subsequent attacks from titans.

As your procession makes its way through the cheering crowds, however, you feel no happiness, your mind fixating on returning to that office of yours. Upon returning to the headquarters, you walk briskly back to the room –

– only to find it empty.

You should have known. You stand at the entrance, and stare for a long time; Petra's words resound at the back of your mind. _We will always be with you_.

At that moment, though, you feel terribly, achingly alone.

* * *

**IX**

You are a lone wolf.

Years after Petra departs, nothing seems to have changed. You are still fighting tooth and nail for mankind's advancement against the giants, and you still prefer to fight alone. Now, however, when you fight, you no longer rely solely on your own strength. Many times when the odds are stacked heavily against you, when the lingering threat of death looms over your shoulder, threatening to engulf you, you draw upon the faith of four soldiers you once commanded.

You remember their courage, their loyalty, their sacrifice. Above all, however, you recall the hope that you carry, reflected in their eyes.

"_This is brutally beautiful  
__So are we._

_This is endless  
__So are we."_

-fin-


End file.
